The Deepest Depths of High
by Jamie Your Frickin Star
Summary: Morts divorce left him so empty. Instead of moving on hes moving on to different things. He starts out with drugs which turns into an addiction but then a new girl enters his life. But can anyone save him now? R for language and extreme drug & alcohol use
1. Chapter One

**The Deepest Depths Of High**

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort (unfortunately hehe), or anything else from Stephen King or David Koepp.

Summary: Amy is NOT dead, yet Mort is living a sad, sad little life. He's losing his sense and his path. He's trying to move on from his divorce, and instead moves on to things an average 15-year-old boy thinks about such as drugs, drinking, and sex. But is there anyone who can save him now???

A/N: Yo ho! This is my first fanfic for a loooong time......I've been bored lately. Lol. Well PLEASE review. This should be good.

**Chapter One:**

I walked out to the front yard of my little graveyard of a house and shoved another lit cigarette in my mouth. It was then I realized that cigarettes weren't helping me much. I needed to graduate to something different...something...heavier. I remembered a few of my co-workers from when I was younger. I knew they were all dealers now, and I knew where they all hung out. I've been missing them lately. I don't know why. They're all just a bunch of bad seeds, but I fit in with them now.

Amy forced me to see a doctor, and he prescribed me some kind of fucking medication, but I don't see any kind of difference in my life. Unless Amy will come back to me somehow, my life will be a miserable mourge. Sometimes I want to believe that if I had a good wife and I stable family, I'd be able to get by. But for now, I'll have to try to start dating again, which is gonna be hell. Or maybe I could just knock up a prostitute and there. I've gotten the family part taken care of. And- oh yeah, I forgot. I'm practically bankrupt. I need to get a new job. Writing is just another fucking failure of mine.

But don't get me wrong. It's not like I don't want to be happy. I just don't think there's anyone left out there for me. Except maybe prostitutes and whores I've picked up at bars. But I can't even have them anymore. I have no money.

I wish Amy knew I was feeling like this. I bet she'd be pissed.

Yeah.

That is what I want.

So anyway...I walked out to the front yard of my little graveyard of a house and shoved another lit cigarette in my mouth. I looked out toward the lake and, of course, saw no movement. It was starting to scare me. The silence and lessened movement, I mean. So I picked up a rock and threw it in the lake. It gave it a ripple effect of movement, but still made no noise, which was still bothering me. I looked around for something to make noise with, but found nothing. So I took the cigarette out of my mouth for a moment and, well, screamed. I screamed because no one could hear me. I heard my scream echo back at me, telling me to shut up. But I didn't care. These were my grounds. Anybody who wanted to wander around here should have a damn good reason because I'm the only thing up here. Just me and my skags.

---------------------------------------------------

A few days later, I decided I would drive into town and meet up with Dan and Dennis, a couple of my crackhead friends from college. They weren't always crackheads though. I remember when they were very civilized, intelligent men. Anyway I knew they always hung around in the alley way beside this strip club I've been to before I met Amy. And even though they get drunk every night, and take pills every morning doesn't mean they're not good guys. Sure...they kind of messed up their lives twelve years ago, but I don't really care. They'll always be my friends. And if I weren't theirs, they'd all probably be in the slammer.

The funny thing is...they all predicted this day would come. The day when I came running to them for some of their leftovers. I started thinking about this while I was driving into the city. I started remembering how we were in college....

(((FLASHBACK)))

It was Saturday morning. I woke up quietly, but I was still laying in bed with the covers over my head. I could hear a faint distant sound coming from the other side of the room. It was a bunch of slow clicking noises. I flopped over, seeing Dennis typing at his computer, with his back to my bed. He's the worst typer in the world, but the best student in the school. Do you know how nauseating it is to share a dorm with someone who wakes up at 7:00 on a Saturday to study for a Calculus exam?! I looked around and noticed Matt, my other roommate, was still sleeping. But I didn't see Dan anywhere. He must have already left to go see Rebecca. Rebecca, Rebecca, Rebecca. That's all it ever is with that man. Oh well. I decided to just go back to sleep. Well, I wanted to at least. But Dennis' typing reminded me of a clock ticking, and it was driving me nuts. So I got up without speaking a word to him, got dressed, and headed down the hall.

Of course, the first thing I saw after leaving the dorm was Dan and Rebecca in a corner of the hallway doing what they do every morning when they supposedly think everyone is still asleep. And every morning, I walk by and smack him in the back of the head. He knows it's coming, yet he always gets mad. So today, like any other day, I walked right past them and smacked him in the head. I hoped Rebecca's nose didn't start bleeding like that one time because that kind of made me feel bad. And she also hid my Creative Writing book in the janitor's closet, so we were both a little pissed at eachother after that.

(((END OF FLASHBACK)))

I was finally starting to see the city lights coming up. I searched my mind, trying to remember the location of that strip club. I hoped they were still there. At this point in my life, they were my last hope.

Finally I found the damn place and I parked my beat-up car behind the building. I noticed three human silhouettes in the shadows of the alleyway. I approached them cautiously, for some reason, with my hands in my pockets. I recognized Dennis and Dan, but the third was a woman. I tried hard to think if I knew her, but I discovered nothing.

"Hey," I said. "Either of you still remember me or are you too blazed up at the moment?"

Dan surveyed me. I could see his eyes were red and puffy and depressed, not how I remembered them. But hey. Dan gets drunk the most and Dennis gets high the most, so it's understandable.

"Mort? Whatever happened to you, man? Didn't you get divorced or something...?" Dan said, clearly in the dark of my life.

"Yeah. Yeah..."

"So what brings you back here?" Dennis said. His voice surprised me. He used to have such a calm voice. Now it sounded almost as if he was scared to speak. Almost as if he was seperate from the world.

I thought desperately of a way to tell them. "Well-"

I don't know how, but Dan caught on right away. "Oh, you were wondering if you could get that 'diploma' right?"

I stared at him.

Dennis leaned back against the wall. "Heard you took up smoking full-time. Just wondering if you wanted to take it to the next...level."

It was a weird moment. This was when I would give my life up. Yeah, this feels right.

I nodded. "Yeah. That's exactly how I feel. I mean, you guys don't know how much my life has changed since college. My dad died...I lost a baby, and Amy left me. This is almost like a last resort I guess. So...yeah. I think this is what I want."

Dan and Dennis looked at eachother. "Okay," Dennis said casually. "But all I've got right now is heroin. And this...this is strong stuff. And it's addicting. Are you sure you want to do this, Mort? I mean, once you pick up this shit, everything else sounds appealing too. I've known guys who've been in and out of rehab so many times-"

"Dennis. Yes. This is what I want."

He took a breath and took a small bag out of his pocket, his eyes wandering in and out of each end of the alley way, watching for people passing by. But he handed it to me and I stuffed it in my coat. Dan watched me apprehensively. "Be careful, Mort. I'd hate to see anything terrible happen to you."

I sighed. "If you could watch a film of the last eleven years of my life...you would."

I said goodbye to the two of them and walked quickly out to the back of the building again. I got in the car and resisted the temptation to snort it right away. I didn't wanna be snorting and driving at the same time. Actually I don't even know if it's illegal. I'm sure it is, but I never really thought about it before. I guess it'd be a little hard to though. Snort and drive. You'd probably get in an accident just for failure of multi-tasking.

It was while I was driving home that I realized the woman who was standing behind Dennis in the shadows the whole time hadn't said a word. I figured I'd meet her eventually, with the fact that I'd probably be seeing my two friends every week now.

I didn't know if I should be proud of myself for taking this step to a supposedly better life, or if I should be ashamed because one: I am joining my crackhead friends or two: I'm doing it because of Amy.

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A/N: WOAH this story is just taking off! Lol well PLEASE review, ok? I like that! lmao Well ok....maybe I'll post over the weekend. 4-day weekend!! WOOHOO! Lol ok yeah I'm psycho. Well not as much as some people but still. Lol well ok REVIEW people! Luv ya ---jAmIe


	2. Chapter Two

**The Deepest Depths Of High**

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort (unfortunately hehe), or anything else from Stephen King or David Koepp.

Summary: Amy is NOT dead, yet Mort is living a sad, sad little life. He's losing his sense and his path. He's trying to move on from his divorce, and instead moves on to things an average 15-year-old boy thinks about such as drugs, drinking, and sex. But is there anyone who can save him now???

A/N: Hey hey hey! I love you!

**Chapter Two:**

(((FLASHBACK)))

It was Sunday morning and me, Matt, and Dan had just got back from church, finding Dennis unsurprisingly at his computer. Not that Dennis didn't ever go to church, he was just really stressing over this Calculus exam and chose not to go. You see, me and my three best friends grew up in a little place called Pierson, Louisiana. And Pierson is a pretty religious small town and there are very few students left on campus on Sunday morning, unless they have a good reason. For Dennis, a Calculus exam is an excellent reason.  
  
Actually it was really just me and Matt coming back from church because right afterwards, Dan met up with Rebecca. He gave us the excuse that "they'd had plans for Sunday all week." But we didn't really care. Me and Matt just decided to go waste some time and go play basketball in the gym.  
  
So we went down there and went in the gym. With our scattered brains though, we'd obviously forgotten that the cheerleaders had practice after church every Sunday. Matt became extremely embarrassed and ran out quickly. He said, "I'm gonna go back to bed. I'll see you later."  
  
I thought of something and followed him back to the dorm. As he went back to sleep, I took my laptop, went back to the gym and sat down on the bleachers. I opened up my most recent document which was currently 112 pages. I was working really hard lately to reach 200 but that didn't look like it was going to happen any time soon. Especially not today....

I could sense the cheerleaders watching me for some reason. I continued typing, but they continued watching. I didn't understand what they found so interesting....I even pushed my glasses back on my nose and they broke out laughing. At this, I finally looked up from my laptop and stared at them, confused. Then one of them came over to me.  
  
"Sorry," she said, her blond curls bouncing uncontrollably. "My friends and I were just wondering what you were writing about."  
  
"Oh, it's nothing really-"  
  
She sat down next to me and looked at the screen. "That's a lot of stuff. Do you write a lot?"  
  
"Um...yeah."  
  
"That's cool. Hey...I was just wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?"  
  
I was stunned. Literally. "You-you wanna go out with me?"  
  
"Yeah." She smiled. "I'm Amy."  
  
"I'm Mort."

"So do you want to go out sometime, Mort?"  
  
I honestly didn't know what to say, so I said what I wanted to say, "Yeah."

(((END OF FLASHBACK)))

I found myself lying on my couch, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the times me and Amy had together. But then I realized how much I hated those memories. The night I'd found out she'd been cheating on me, I couldn't help but go home and rip up all the pictures, break the CD of our wedding song, and just simply throw things. That was really what I felt like doing after I started thinking about the time I met Amy. But really...there was nothing left in my house to rip up or break or throw. But then I remembered....

I got up and picked up my coat. I felt in the pocket and found the bag of heroin Dennis had given me. I guess this was it....After this, I would probably never feel the same again. Good.

I laid it all out flat on the coffee table in front of the couch and took a straw from the kitchen. I really didn't know what I was doing, but it felt right. So I went back in the living room and flat out snorted it. I did it continuously for a couple minutes until I really started to feel a headache coming. After about ten minutes I suddenly started feeling really dizzy and I laid back down on the couch on my back, coughing. I was then in a whirlwind of the colors of my house and closed my eyes. I don't know why, but I then started to laugh idiotically. I laughed, confronting the fact that I had just snorted heroin. It was quite humorous after much thought. I opened my eyes again and noticed that everything in the room was foggy, and the light was hurting my eyes. I closed them once again, wishing I could just seal them shut, but knowing that that wasn't really a possibility at this point. I was only one step in....but maybe one day.

I started to laugh even more, imagining Amy walking in right now, seeing the picture of me lying on the couch laughing uncontrollably, and a decent dosage of heroin spread across my coffee table. I laughed and laughed, knowing that if I had any neighbors, they would probably call the police right about now. These kind of thoughts reminded me that I still had a pretty stable brain, and I hadn't done that much to my body yet. I'd just take it one day at a time. Yeah...Amy obviously didn't like this body or this mind anymore, so why let either of them live on? Yeah, that's exactly how I felt....I wanted Amy to feel as much pain as I did they day I caught her. But as for me, I wanted to make it go away. I'd suffered enough right?

Yes. It was about time that I laughed. It was about time that I felt happy again. I opened my eyes, not fully knowing if I'd fallen asleep or not. But I looked around and noticed my vision had repaired while my eyes were closed. I saw the rest of the drug lying there on the table, patiently waiting for me to inject it into myself. It was so tempting....And I took it.I snorted it again, not wanting to kill my mind all at once, wanting it to last long enough for Amy to know. For Amy to find out and come over and find me like this.  
  
By the end of the day, I'd snorted it all though. It was all gone. I regretted using all up in one day, but I just absolutely adored the feeling it gave me. It made me feel so...happy. Happiness was the one thing Amy took away from me. It seemed as if this shit was the only thing that could give me back that required quality. I thought and assumed Dennis would be expecting me back tomorrow. And I probably would be coming back tomorrow. I had to. I was out of the stuff that made me feel so good. I was out of my Amy. And no, I don't miss her. I just miss the happiness she gave me. She had been so nice when it came to happiness and me. I laughed some more. Now her supply of happiness was being given to Ted. That ugly-ass fucking son of a bitch. I laughed hysterically, not noticing a bit that I was almost falling off of the couch. Yeah, that felt good. Now if I could only say that to his face. Then what would happen? I don't know. I don't even know what will happen tomorrow.

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A/N: Wow this is getting really deep. Please review..... ---jAmie


	3. Chapter Three

**The Deepest Depths Of High**

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort (unfortunately hehe), or anything else from Stephen King or David Koepp.

Summary: Morts divorce left him feeling so empty and useless. Instead of moving on hes moving on to different things. He starts out with drugs which turns into an addiction but then a new girl enters his life. But can anyone save him now? R for language sexuality and extreme drug & alcohol use.

A/N: Hm...no one is really reviewing. I don't really see the point in continuing this story but I will anyway cuz at least I know I have a couple readers ). Newayz, here we go. ---jAmie

**Chapter Three:**

I felt like throwing myself into walls until I finally bled to death. What terrible, stupid, awful timing I have! And what a forgetful mind!

I had a meeting this morning at 8:30. I would have never remembered about it if I had not looked at the calendar this morning, which had written on today's date: "meeting with Karsch and fucking lawyers". But it's now 7:54 and I have no time to get more well and rested before I get to the city. And I probably wouldn't make a good impression with the fucking lawyers if the first time they saw me, I was stoned. So I called Karsch and told him I woke up really sick and couldn't get into the city today. He understood but told me we'd have to arrange it for another day. I said I'd think about it.

I had finally fell asleep at about 3:00 this morning. I had just been walking around the house all night looking through every drawer, cabinet, and shelf, trying to find any kind of pills or medicine I could overdose on. All I could manage to find though was Tylenol and Pepto Bismol, but I downed them both. I woke up this morning in a shady kind of haze. It took me a second just to relearn how to open my eyes. They were still dark and puffy when I looked in the mirror. I could barely even pay attention to my appearance in the mirror though. I couldn't even stand. I just collapsed and laid there on the floor in the bathroom. I really felt like I was dying...Like I would just stop existing any second. And that was when...That was when I decided to go into the city.

But of course I wasn't going to see Karsch or the lawyers. As I was driving past the lake and slowly into the city, I was trying to decide if I should go see Dan and Dennis, or Amy. I didn't want Ted to see me like this though. And chances are, Amy was with him. I'd made up my mind. I was gonna go see the guys, then I was gonna stop by Amy's. You know...just to talk....But I had to go load up first.

I had parked behind the familiar building and noticed the two of them. I remembered the girl who had been with them last time. She wasn't here now...Oh well. They noticed me and said hi nervously, asking how it all went.

"At first I wasn't very sure about it all," I said. "But now I feel so...I don't Full."

"That's exactly what it should do," Dennis said. "How many hours of sleep did you get?"  
  
"About five."  
  
"That's decent. Expect a lot less." He really looked at my face for the first time, and his expression changed. "Mort...how much did you take last night? Are you sure you didn't buy off someone else as well?"  
  
"Well...I snorted all the heroine last night, and I was so high, but I still wanted more. So...I took all the pills and medicine I could find in my house."  
  
They both looked at eachother and sighed, looking disappointed. "Mort...Please, don't do that again. If you want some that bad, just call me or something. Don't just go and overdose on non-prescription shit. Do you understand how much that can _really_ damage you?"

"Yeah..." I agreed, not wanting to discuss it any longer. I knew what I'd done was wrong, but I was so close, _so close_ to getting rid of _all_ that pain....All of those memories with Amy...the visions of the motel...they were all slowly disappearing, just leaving me. So Dennis handed me some more heroine, and I said goodbye to both of them and started up the car again. I wondered if I really wanted to go see Amy now. I was highly anticipating going home and snorting my fresh drug.

As I was on the highway, heading over to Riverdale, I noticed a cop car with the sirens on, shooting off in the other direction. For the sake of my own amusement, I wondered what kind of nut case they could be chasing after this time....

OH, DAMN!

I struggled to figure out what to do. God, my two best friends were about to possibly get arrested. I was stuck at a light, so I pulled out my cell phone, and raced through the dozens of unrecognizable numbers on my call list (mostly lawyers and crap), trying to find either of there's. It had to be in there somewhere....After minutes of searching, I found Dan's old cell number. I wasn't sure if he'd gotten a new phone or something, but it rang and I hoped he would answer....

"Hello?" he answered quietly.

"Dan, okay, I'm on the highway and the cops are coming your way!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah, they got the little siren things on and everything!"  
  
"But who-"

"I don't know, but get out of the alley, okay?"

Dan agreed and hung up. I hoped they were okay. I guess I'd find out later. I spent the rest of the drive home worrying about them. By the time I'd reached the lake, I realized I'd forgotten to go say hi to Amy. Oh well. There was no part of me that really wanted to talk to her right now. I just started thinking about getting quickly into the safety of my house and start getting high again. I wanted to so bad, but the trouble was...someone was sitting on the front steps of my house.

I was startled at first, but then I realized she was the girl who was with Dan and Dennis the other day. I recognized her long brownish-red hair. But that was the only way I recognized her. I hadn't seen her face because it was dark, but now I couldn't see her face either because her arms were wrapped around her knees, and her head was placed between her arms. She looked and sounded extremely upset. I wondered what to do...

I got out of the car, approached her cautiously and she looked up at me when I reached her.

I stared into her green eyes and literally had to take a step back. I was mesmorized by the beauty I instantly noticed in her, even with tears streaming down her face. She cried so pretty....

"Hi," I said breathlessly. "What-what's the matter, miss?"  
  
She stood up and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Mort..."

Of course I was thoroughly surprised when she did. I hadn't felt a woman this beautiful this close to me in about a year. She gave me goosebumps; I tried hard not laugh at myself as I realized I was acting like a teenage boy in high school who had a crush on the popular girl....

She pulled away and stood in front of me, trying to prevent her tears. I really wanted to help her.... "Um...I'm afraid I don't know you, miss....What's your name?"

She smiled. "I'm Tiffany LaRue. I used to go out with Dennis, but...we broke up about three weeks ago."  
  
"Is that why you're upset, Tiffany?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Well...do you wanna talk about it?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I do actually."

"Well, let's go inside." She agreed and I led her in the house and we sat next to each other on the couch. I became aware of the mess my house was, but Tiffany didn't seem to mind. She just kept watching every move I made.

"So what's going on, Tiffany?"

"Well..." She looked around for a little bit before answering. "I really loved Dennis. We went out for about six, seven months...."  
  
Wow. Dennis had never gone out with someone that long before.

"...But I always found something extremely suspicious about him....For a long while, I thought he was cheating on me, which created fights. I really wanted him to love me, and it was depressing to think that he didn't. And that he just wanted to go with other women....I wanted to be with him for a long time...and I wanted to marry him, and have kids....But it just didn't work out."

"Why?"

"Because I found out he wasn't cheating on me."

"And that's why it didn't work out?" I said, confused.  
  
"Kind of. I found out what was so suspicious about him....He had given me a key to his apartment so I had just gone in there one day, but he wasn't there. But I noticed that he had piles of dishes to do, so I picked up a rag and started doing his dishes for him...." A small smile formed on her lips, but it quickly faded. "But then...but then I was putting some clean plates away when I noticed a cabinet that was full of pills...pills and-and drugs and...and all these terrible things-"

She had started to sob again, so I took her in my arms and let her cry into my chest. I could feel her warmth press against me. I could feel the pain she was feeling. Tiffany finding out about Dennis' addiction was a bit like me finding out about Amy cheating on me. I tried not to think about it. I was trying to help Tiffany, not pity over myself.

After a while, her tears were slowly stopping, and she lifted her head off my chest. She looked in my eyes again. Remembering something, I said, "I thought you said you weren't crying because of Dennis?"

"Well...that's kind of just half of the story."

"Oh?"

"Yeah...well, a couple months ago, Dan told me all about you for some reason. He showed me pictures of you guys in college, some of your books, and just told me all these things about you. And you seemed like such a great person...."

"But?"

"But...then I saw you in the alley taking that heroin from Dennis....And I realized that all of the men I were attracted to were going to take drugs....I hate it...."

Wow, I felt guilty. This made me want to stop snorting it, but about thirty minutes ago, snorting was the one thing I wanted more than anything. But now I was thinking I wanted Tiffany more than anything....I wanted her to stay here in my arms forever....But she couldn't do that. I couldn't do that.

But we started talking more and more about drugs, and relationships, and everything. But soon the sun had fallen, and Tiffany decided she should be getting home. "It was really nice talking to you, Mort. I really wish you would quit getting high, but I think you really are a great guy. Maybe we could hang out again sometime...."

"Sure. Just call me whenever." I couldn't help but smile. "Bye, Tiffany."

Then, out of nowhere, she ran her fingers through my hair and kissed me quickly on the lips. She unfortunately let go and I saw her beautiful green eyes stare into mine again. "Bye, Mort." She went out the door quickly and hopped in her car.

For that second, I couldn't help but feel like the happiest man on the planet. I absolutely _loved_ this feeling! Did this mean I loved Tiffany? No, Mort. Don't be stupid....You just met the girl. But now...now I had to decide what would happen if I...you know....Would this feeling increase? Or would it go away? I definately didn't want it to go away...I didn't think anyone else in the universe could make me feel like this except Amy, but I was wrong. Wrong again. TIffany was just as good at it as Amy was. If anything, better.

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A/N: Finally less depression! Lol Mort's so emo.....lmao NEways Please review people! I love ya so much!! ---jAmie


	4. Chapter Four

**The Deepest Depths Of High**

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort (wah), or anything else from Stephen King or David Koepp.

Summary: Morts divorce left him feeling so empty and useless. Instead of moving on hes moving on to different things. He starts out with drugs which turns into an addiction but then a new girl enters his life. But can anyone save him now? R for language sexuality and extreme drug & alcohol use.

A/N: REVIEW!!!!!!! OK?!?!?!? Ahahaha just kidding. You don't have to if you don't want to...but I highly suggest it!! lOl anyway...um, oh yeah. I just made up the author Frank Gerald ---RAZZ (ahaha it's my new nickname)

**Chapter Four:**

It had started to rain, and my car wasn't starting for some reason. So I couldn't go see Dan or Dennis or Amy or Tiffany or anyone. I was up here all alone. Without any kind of drug to keep me busy.

But then I realized something...I had a whole refrigerator full of Jack Daniels!

I pulled out a bottle and drank half the bottle all at once. I felt a little lightheaded now....I took it with me back into the living room and stood there, drinking as fast as possible.

_What are you doing to yourself, Morton?_

Shit. "What the fuck are you doing here, Shooter?"

_Well, I'm only trying to be kind, Mr. Rainey. I'm trying to save your life. But apparently you don't want me to._

"No, I don't, as a matter of fact."

_Fine. Why don't you just go take some more heroin while you're at it?"_

"I honestly would if I could."

_You're the most ignorant man I've ever watched live, Mr. Rainey._

I'd had about enough of this shit. I put the bottle down and went quickly to my radio and searched for a rock station. I turned it up as loud as possible, and it surprisingly worked. I couldn't hear Shooter's vocie at all now....I went back to the Jack Daniels, standing there, chugging it faster and faster.

I heard some kind of odd noise, but assumed it was just more Shooter yelling at me. I turned off the radio, and listened. Yes, he was gone.

I had started to finish the last bit of alcohol when I felt someone behind me with their arms around my neck. I then realized that the noise I'd heard was Tiffany letting herself into the house. I didn't turn around; I just smiled. She started kissing my neck and whispering that she'd missed me. Now of course I adored Tiffany, but this was too fast for me. "Tiffany...stop, baby," I said, turning around to look her in the eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing...I just...nothing."

She smiled at me, and I couldn't help feeling a bit guilty of drinking all that JD when she walked in, which she obviously witnessed. She didn't seem to mind though. "So what have you been doing, baby?" she asked, taking my hands, and holding them to her heart.

"Not much, really..."

"When did you go to bed? You look so tired."

"I dunno."

"Well..." She went over to the table next to the couch, where her purse was, and she pulled something out of it. "I got you something."

I laughed a little. "Did you now?"

"Yep. Here." She handed me a book: the latest instalment of the Frank Gerald series, the only one I'd been missing.

I looked at her and smiled. "How did you-"

"Dennis told me Frank Gerald's been your favorite author ever since you guys were in college, and I figured you didn't have this one because it just came out a couple weeks ago. Do you like it?"

"I love it, baby. Thank you." I gave her a hug, and kissed her cheek.

"You're welcome. So do you wanna go out to dinner?"

I was pleasantly surprised. "Well, yeah. But um...I gotta go get ready. You can just hang out here....I swear I'll be done in 15 minutes."

"Take your time." She smiled and then laid down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

I miserably felt like a teenage girl not having anything to wear. I hadn't been on a date in a long, long time. But I couldn't really consider this a date...we were pretty much already going out. I decided to gargle some Listerine just because I kind of expected her to kiss me again, not to be arrogant-expectant or anything. I combed my hair and considered putting in my contacts...but I just quickly picked up my thick-rimmed glasses without another thought.

Tiffany was still lying on the couch, and I couldn't exactly tell if she was asleep....Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling as if she was thinking about something wonderful. But then she opened her eyes a couple seconds later, and noticed I was back. We both laughed. "Were you asleep?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

I smiled and we locked arms, heading out to Tiffany's car.

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Halfway through dinner, Tiffany was obviously very much too drunk to carry on a sensible conversation with. I even had to stop her from answering the waiter when he asked if she wanted another drink. "No, no, I think she's had enough."

"Mort...." She pouted and turned her pretty green eyes into puppy eyes.

"No, Tiff," I said, laughing. "You've had way too many drinks already."

She sat back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. "...So have you."

I looked up. "Tiffany..."  
  
"How come you can drink and I can't?"

"I didn't say you couldn't drink...just not more than four glasses-"

"Fine."

We avoided the topic of alcohol for the rest of dinner. But overall, we laughed and had a really good time. We walked out of the restaurant hand-in-hand, still laughing about quite random things. We got in the car (I was driving, of course), and before we started driving off, we sat there and made out for a little while in the parking lot. Luckily it was dark, so no one really noticed, but I must admit I wasn't enjoying it as much as I thought I would have. "Hey, angel..." I said, as she started unbottoning my shirt. "T-Tiffany..."

She realized I wanted her to stop, and she did so, looking slightly disappointed. I noticed it and felt a little bad. "Hey, babe," I said, feeling her soft, brown-ish hair. "You wanna come back to my place?"

This seemed to cheer her up and she nodded, grinning. I smiled back, and we started back home.

We reached the house and I carried her on my back into the living room, then dropped her softly on the couch. "Oh, Tiffany...my poor, drunk, Tiffany..."

She giggled, and pulled me onto the couch with her. We were both laying there together, but she was almost on top of me. There wasn't much room for both of us there on the couch. She kissed me and I could taste all the alcohol in her system. I didn't mind, but I just kept trying to think of where this night was going....She was kissing my neck and around my chest, and I knew we were going way too fast. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Years ago, this would have been heaven for me, but right now something just felt different....

Tiffany had undone my jeans and my shirt was half off; that's when I decided to draw the line. "Tiffany...angel..." She seemed to be ignoring my words. "Tiff...stop...."

She suddenly stopped and then looked in my eyes, as if she had just realized something. She rolled off me so we were just laying next to each other again. I kissed her sweetly to make up in case I'd hurt her feelings. But she didn't seem hurt. We just layed there, both of us on our sides, facing eachother. I was looking in her eyes, but she was concentrating on a piece of my hair that she was twirling around with her fingers. "Can I ask you a question, baby?" she said, breaking the silence.

"Sure."

"You do snort a lot, don't you?"

Somehow I had a feeling she was gonna ask me something like this. "Umm...why do you ask, angel?"

She was still concentrating on my one piece of hair. "I don't know...Well...me and Dennis used to be so...intimate and we kissed a lot and made out and we-we had sex a couple times, but then I started to notice he was becoming less and less...um...active. He never kissed me anymore and certainly had no desire. So a couple weeks ago...I was researching heroine and crack side-effects...because those were the two I'd found out he took the most. And I found out that if you're taking heroine, one of the side-effects can be a lessened sexual desire...but only if you snort a fairly large amount. So I was just wondering...."  
  
As Tiffany finished her story, I realized that must be the reason. If I hadn't been snorting, I probably would be having sex with Tiffany right now. "Well...I guess that must be it, Tiff. I-I'm sorry....Do you want to?"

"Do you?"

"I asked you first."

She giggled, and kissed me. "Only if you want to."

I grinned, but tried to figure out what I was feeling right now. I really wanted to love Tiffany, but truly. I didn't want some kind of instant macaroni love, like when you just put it in the microwave and it's done instead of boiling the water and adding all the ingredients. Right now I was boiling the water, and I had to decide if I wanted to just spill it and take out the instant macaroni...or keep adding the ingredients.

I sighed and looked her in the eyes. "Maybe...when we get to know each other a little better, and I'm starting to stop heroin. If that makes any sense at all...starting to stop..."

Tiffany laughed and nodded. "I understand, Morty. But we can still make out right?"

"Oh, yeah." I smiled and took the blanket from the end of the couch and threw it over the two of us, as we fell more in love by the second, with just the inextinguishable fire between us and the rain outside of us.

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A/N: Oky doky then please review ok?? Promise?? ---RAZZ


	5. Chapter Five

**The Deepest Depths Of High**

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort (why can't I keep him, mom??), or anything else from Stephen King or David Koepp.

Summary: Morts divorce left him feeling so empty and useless. Instead of moving on hes moving on to different things. He starts out with drugs which turns into an addiction but then a new girl enters his life. But can anyone save him now? R for language sexuality and extreme drug & alcohol use.

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while...I've been workin on my new fic Living In Your to think of it, I haven't written my POTC one in like forever!! Better get working on that lol. By the way...this chapter's pretty deep ---Razz

**Chapter Five:**

The rain had finally subsided after many long hours of loneliness after Tiffany left. God, she made me so happy...ha, she was like my anti-drug....

But when she wasn't with me, I had no anti-drug. I had no reason not to take my drugs. But right now, I didn't have anything to drug myself with...so I just settled on cigarettes for now. I sat there on the couch, staring into the dark fireplace, smoking a new cigarette when I heard the phone ring. I prayed that it was Tiffany....

Of course it wasn't.

"Hi, Mort."

"Oh...hi, Amy."

"How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"I haven't heard anything from you in a while....I was getting worried...."

"Why would you care?"

"I don't know...I mean, I care about you. You know that, right?"

I laughed softly to myself. How the _fuck_ could she _care_ about me after what she put me through?

"Yeah, okay, Amy...."

"Well, I was just checking up on you."

"Amy...I don't exactly need to be checked up on."

"Oh...well, sorry." She hung up.

I couldn't help but feel like Amy was a bit too literal. What was the meaning of these pointless phone calls? No meaning....

Just like this world...has no meaning....

_Well, here we go into the self-pity of Mort Rainey._

I had noticed that John Shooter had been speaking an excessive amount more than he used to and fear was the only thing I felt when I heard his voice. It was blood-chilling and heart-stopping.

"Why don't you just please go away, Mr. Shooter?"

_Now you want me gone? A while ago, I was the only thing that kept you alive. But your life is pointless, Mr. Rainey....You're only existing because you're the result of the mistake your parents made when they were nineteen-_

"SHUT UP!" I found myself clutching the rims of my ears again, trying to stop the voices from continuing. "SHUT UP, SHOOTER!"

_You know the real reason you keep yourself locked up here all this time? You can't help but drown yourself in your self-pity. You can't help but wait for someone to knock on your door and be reasonable enough to help you, like Tiffany-_

"No! Don't _ever_ mention Tiffany! EVER!"

_But soon she'll just be welcomed into your life just like everyone else, who does exactly the opposite of you want- they destroy you._

This was pointless! "JUST-SHUT-UP!"

_You sit up here in your little house by the lake, thinking nobody cares anymore....But really, it's you who doesn't care anymore....You're demolishing the Mort Rainey that was born thirty-five years ago. You're keeping yourself locked up, continuing to let yourself bleed-_

I stumbled into the bathroom, the voices and ringing in my ears mixing together to create an awful, disturbing sound. It was blurring my vision....My hands fumbled through the medicine cabinet and pulled out any kind of bottle that made a rattling noise, such as pills. I took a glass and filled it with tap water and started to down it all....

_Look what you're doing....Just think about it...._

I then searched for anything liquid I could drink down....Not bothering to read what it was before I took it, I drank it all as well. I just wanted this to all go away....And it did. As I hit the cold wooden floor of the bathroom....it did. Everything went black once again and I resumed the same dead feeling I had felt several days ago.

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"Mort...oh, God...Mort, sweetie, wake up! Oh, God, wake up...."

I could hear distant bits and pieces of someone's voice and my numb body could barely feel a warm body sitting next to my cold one. My eyes refused to open....I had returned to the hazy world of awakening. Everything was blurry and dark...The only thing I could distinctly see was a pair of bright green eyes, looking frightened. I tried to keep my eyes open to be able to look into hers, but I couldn't. They were too heavy and defected. I layed there, not knowing what was going on around me. My head seemed as heavy as a dozen bowling balls and my face was soaking in either tears or sweat. There was no way for me to tell. I could feel things happening to my body as if I was being operated on, but I began to wonder why anyone would operate in such an insanitary, small and cramped bathroom of a house that I psychotic stoner owns.

Still...I could only hear little bites out of what several people were saying around me. From the little pieces of their conversation that I could hear...It seemed as if Tiffany had found me here about twenty minutes ago and had called an ambulance. Soon I could feel my body being lifted up and placed somewhere different. I honestly didn't want to go anywhere. I liked the stone cold bathroom floor just fine. I liked feeling my body disintegrate into nothingness as slowly as possible. And with ambulances, everything has to go as fast as possible, it seems.

I truly woke up in what semed about three hours later. Everything was still blurry after I opened my eyes, and all I could hear were muffled voices all around me. It was highly frightening, knowing that people were around you, but you didn't know who they are or what they're saying. I wanted to go home and lay on my couch. Just to think. Just to think of a new story...or the next time I'd see Tiffany...or to think about what kind of damage I'd done to myself....

It occured to me that I was currently living in a foggy world where nobody knew me. Nobody knew me except a green-eyes girl named Tiffany. Nobody knew my story...except Tiffany. She was my only hope in this world...whatever this world was. I believed myself when I realized she was the only one who could get me through this. Because from the blurred images that were apparently alive, none of them I recognized except for the brown-ish red-headed girl with the dazzling green eyes. She was the only one who had come to help me.

No! I couldn't go on saying things like this! Amy had just got done telling me several hours ago that she cared about me....But if she cared, she would know about the drugs, wouldn't she? I fascinated myself, watching my mind work right before my eyes even though I was probably inches away from death. I looked around and noticed I was now alone in this hospital room.

My vision was slowly coming back. Very slowly...I still couldn't see barely anything...But I could see that I didn't want to be here....The walls I was enclosed in were the palest of white....There was a window with blinds to my right...or was it left...I couldn't remember at the moment...that were leading into another part of the hospital. I wondered what kind of hospital I was in anyway....Medical? Psychiatric? ...Rehab?

Just when I thought nobody would come back for me, the sweet, gorgeous green-eyed girl walked through the doorway. But her green eyes were gone. They were almost blue actually....They were so full of tears. I began to wonder what could be troubling her so much, but her words to me explained everything.

"...Mort...We're going to help you, okay?"

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A/N: Oooooookay then lol. Sorry it's kinda short. I've been writing FFs all night! lol well hope you like it! Tell me what you think! ---Razz


	6. Chapter Six

**The Deepest Depths Of High**

Disclaimer: I don't own Mort (Ima cry!), or anything else from Stephen King or David Koepp.

Summary: Morts divorce left him feeling so empty and useless. Instead of moving on hes moving on to different things. He starts out with drugs which turns into an addiction but then a new girl enters his life. But can anyone save him now? R for language sexuality and extreme drug & alcohol use.

A/N: Hello! Another chapter for you here! Hehe I'm so nice lol. I've been watching 21 Jump Street all day! It's such a good show! But now it's almost like 1 in the morning ugh Lol well ok here's Chapter Six. By the way thanks ADeppGirl and Dawnie-7!!! My only two readers lol!! But you're very wonderful readers even if you're the only ones lol. OOOOOOH I forgot to mention this takes place during that "six month" period after "the cheat" ahaha. Lots of dialogue in this chapter. Ok Luv ya all!---Razz

**Chapter Six:**

What scared me the most was the way I heard my own voice. I tried to respond to her but I 't. It was like my speech was dulled and demanded to slow down. Tiffany knelt down next to my bed and held my hand. But I couldn't feel it, which really sucked. Everything I touched, I couldn't feel. I wished I could feel Tiffany's warm skin right now....I needed to feel _something _just to know that I'm alive....Who knows...This could be the after-life for all I know. I could have killed myself last night and I wouldn't even know.

"Mort?" I heard her whisper to me. "The doctors wanted me to tell you you're doing really good. We're all so scared for you, honey."

"...Who's...'we're all...'?"

"Well Amy and Ted are here, and Dennis and your sister came too."

"What...what about Dan?" I wasn't trying to stutter. I just couldn't help it.

"Dennis said he couldn't come because of, uhm, something. But we're all here for you, okay? Don't think for a second that you're alone...." She smiled up at me and I could finally see her pretty eyes again.

I nodded and smiled back, not wanting to humiliate myself any more with my impaired speech. I wondered how long it would last. I wondered how long any of this would last....

She was about to get up, but I clutched her hand to tell her to stay. She didn't object. She knelt back down as I cautiously opened my mouth to speak. She sat patiently, waiting. "Tiffany? What-what happened...to me?"

She didn't answer right away. "Well...you were asleep for a good fourteen hours. Then the doctors took some test after you woke up...."

"And?"

"...And...We don't know that much yet."

A doctor suddenly walked in the room. "I'm sorry, miss, but we're gonna have to ask you to leave him now."

It was strange how the one thing I could feel in my body that moment was tears welling up in my eyes. I had never felt so stupid in my life, but I wanted Tiffany to stay so bad. She really was helping me. Sitting here by myself wouldn't do me any good. I needed to be with someone. Preferrably her.

The doctor nodded sympathetically. "Okay. But only for a couple more minutes."

I couldn't remember a time when I'd held onto something more tightly than Tiffany's hand right now. I still couldn't see anything, considering the fact my vision was messed up from whatever was happening to me, and I also didn't have my glasses on. But strangely enough, I could see Tiffany more vividly than anything else in the room. She was my little guardian angel...her outline glowing and adding more and more warmth into my body.

"Mort?" she said, looking suddenly worried. Everything else she said, if anything, I didn't comprehend. I didn't know what was happening....I'd never fallen asleep like this before...this painfully...The same feeling I had before had returned for some reason. Oh, God...Damn, you, Shooter....

I had no response from him, but I knew it was him. Why was he doing this to me? I felt myself breathing heavily and...once again...everything went away....

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When I woke up, I was in a different room. I only knew because the bed I was laying on felt different, the room smelled different, and it was much colder here. Or maybe I was just getting colder....

It occured to me that Tiffany had left. Well, maybe she didn't leave, but she left my bedside. Then another doctor walked in. He looked different from the doctor before though. He was wearing a sweater and jeans....The only way I really knew he was a doctor was because he was wearing a doctor cap and his name tag said Dr. Conoughey.

"Where's...where's T-Tiffany?"

"It's okay, Mort. She's right outside, along with everyone else. I just need to ask you a few questions....Is that all right?"

"What-what kind of questions?"

"Just some simple questions we need to ask you to be able to get you out of here, okay?"

I nodded.

"Okay...so, Mort...It's my understanding that you're going through a divorce?"

I nodded.

"....Because your wife was cheating on you?"

I nodded.

"Did you find yourself pained by this divorce?"

I nodded, now subconsciously.

"After finding out about your wife's affair, where did you go to try and make the pain go away?"

I was prepared to nod again, but I looked at him. I didn't even know the answer to that question.... "My friends, I guess."

"And how did your friends help you?"

I shrugged.

He sighed and continued. "What do you remember of last night, Mort?"

"N-nothing..." I said.

The doctor wrote down a couple things on his clipboard then stood up. "Well...this has been very informative. Thank you, Mort."

"Can I leave now?"

"Maybe in a little while. We need to keep a close watch on you for now." He left and soon Tiffany came back.

I tried to smile, but it was difficult. "Hey, Tiff..."

"Hey, babe." She kissed my forehead and I smiled. "Mort...I heard you talking to Dr. Conoughey. Do you really not remember anything about last night?"

"Well I remember a little bit...But-but I didn't...want to...tell him."

"Why? Can you tell me?"

"Sure..." She waited. "Okay, well..."

How on earth was I going to explain Shooter to her?

"I just had a lot on my mind and I was really frustrated. So I seeked grief in all the pills I could find in my medicine cabinet...."

I could see the mix of shame and fear in her eyes, which scared me. I wanted her to know I was going to be okay, just as long as she stayed here.

"Mort, I'm gonna tell you something that might disturb you....You're in rehab. The doctors suspect you're a drug-addicted schizophrenic."

_Well, aren't they smart?_

"Shut up."

"Mort-"

"What?"

Tiffany's eyes were full of an emotion I hadn't seen in them before. "Why are you so reluctant to people helping you? You think we all want to hurt you, but all we want is for you to be happy! Tell me, Mort, what do you want more than anything right now?"

I thought for a second, staring in her eyes. "I want two things. One: I want you to help me out of here. Two: I want to find a way to be sure that I'm alive."

"Why are you unsure you're alive?"

"Cuz I can't feel anything."

"That's because you're fucking stoned!" Then she unexpectedly kissed me passionately on the lips. "Did you feel that, Mort?"

I honestly didn't know what to say. I just said what I felt. "...Tiffany...please-please don't be mad...at me...."

"I'm not. I'm just frustrated to see such an amazing man throw his life away. Is that what you want? To throw your life away?" Her face was now streaming with tears.

"I already told-told you what I want, Tiff. I want to...to bleed...to be sure that I-I'm alive."

"What do you mean by that?" she said in something barely more than a whisper.

I shook my head. "I don't know yet."

I then realized I really was breaking down. Breaking into little bits of the person I once was. But like Tiffany said...I couldn't push everyone away. I couldn't be reluctant any longer. I had to get help before my life ceases to exist. I prayed I wouldn't let it get that far. But if I was left on my own...it probably would. I had to let Tiffany and Amy and Dennis and Dan and...and Ted help me. But did I really want to be fixed?

Tiffany had given me a hug and another kiss on my forehead and left. It wasn't soon after either that I felt extremely tired again. I began to think about how the hell I was going to get myself out of this mess, but all my thoughts were gone and wasted as I drifted into more blackness and nothingness.

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A/N: That was kind of a boring chapter. Lol but I wrote it at 1:00 in the morning so you can't blame me lol! Anyways, review! ---Razz


	7. Chapter Seven

**The Deepest Depths Of High**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Kim! LOL (insider lol)

Summary: Morts divorce left him feeling so empty and useless. Instead of moving on hes moving on to different things. He starts out with drugs which turns into an addiction but then a new girl enters his life. But can anyone save him now? R for language sexuality and extreme drug & alcohol use.

A/N: Woohoo! Jamie's back! LOL sorry I haven't updated in such a long time...real busy...I saw Finding Neverland yesterday!! Pretty good. See it ok? lol well here we go. I honestly don't know where this story is going anymore. I just write for the sake of writing. Sorry about the delay....I honestly wrote this about two days ago...but was being screwy lol ---razz

**Chapter Seven:**

When I woke up again, I found that I was back in my house. I don't know how I got here, and I don't know why they would let me be back here....I was under the impression no one trusted me anymore....I was probably right.

I realized I was looking up at the ceiling on my couch, but it was only after I sat up lighheadedly, I saw Tiffany watching me apprehensively. It's so hard to explain how happy I was to see her...."Hi, Tiffany."

She smiled, and got up to sit down next to me. "Hey, babe." She kissed me quickly and brushed the stray hair out of my face, which I hadn't even noticed was there. "The doctors wanted me to stay with you for a while, to just watch over you and stuff."

I ran my fingers through my hair and smiled. "I'm glad. But...I don't need anyone to watch over me, Tiff. I've got everything under control."

"Hm...no, you don't." She laughed. "No, really. You need someone to make sure you don't go off doing anything stupid like the night before last."

"But, Tiff-"

She wrapped her hands around my neck and kissed me again. I kissed her back and found my hand wandering up her back....

_Remember the macaroni, pilgrim..._

Tiffany then let go of me and took a sharp intake of breath. "Mort..."

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I won't do it again...."

"No, no, it's nothing....I just-"

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," she said, breathing heavily. "I have to go." She kissed me goodbye and ran out the door, leaving it wide open. I sat there, more confused than ever. Did I do something? I didn't mean to....Did I hurt her? I never wanted to....Why is everything so messed up?!?!

I can't answer that one....All I can do now is find more pills. I have to punish myself.

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An hour later, surprisingly my eyes were still open. I hadn't fallen yet. I didn't know what was happening to me....Had I died and gone to hell? I know that's what will happen to me when I die. I might as well just get myself there now....God, why won't my head stop spinning?! It took me a minute to notice I was standing against a wall in the kitchen, seeing blurs of the objects that surrounded me.

Why did I have to do this? I must be the biggest idiot on the surface of the earth....Just out of rehab, I go home and do it all over again. Wow, I'm an idiot....

I don't feel alive. Maybe I am dead....Maybe this is what hell does to people....It was time to find out for sure.

I found my way back into the bathroom. Wow, what am I doing? I don't even care anymore. I looked in the cabinet below the sink and found what I was looking for...a razor blade.

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I heard a hollow shriek and my eyes slowly opened. I somewhat expected to see Tiffany's red-ish hair and green eyes blended together to form some kind of beautiful color like usual, whenever I woke up....But no, this time I saw a white-ish yellow...Oh, God....

"Mort, what did you do? Wake up, honey...Please wake up...." Amy's voice echoed all around me, and I felt her touch my hand, which I realized was burning uncontrollably.

"Amy...help me..." I stuttered, not knowing what else to say. I grabbed her hand, and looked around. The room was a blue-ish color, as if I was in a horror film with no sound. I didn't know what to do. I didn't even know what had happened. Amy had suddenly disappeared. I wanted her back....I needed someone to hold my hand. Without somebody holding it, it felt so cold and...open.

Amy had returned and had helped me sit up against the cabinet. She was wrapping something around my wrist. I couldn't watch her do it though....It was painful. All I could look at were her pretty eyes, and wonder if she was mad at me. She couldn't be mad at me...please don't say she's mad at me....

She was done fixing up my wrist, and sat there in front of me, looking me in the eyes.

"Mort, why did you do this? Why would you...why would you do this to yourself? Was it because of the-the divorce?"

I didn't know what to say. It had been quite a long time since I'd had a conversation with Amy. "I don't know...Are you going to tell anyone?"

"Sweetie, I have to. We're so worried about you. You need help, Mort. This could get very serious. In fact...it already is."

"Amy..." I started breathing deeply, not wanting to tell her that it was her fault I had done all these terrible things in the first place. If she just hadn't cheated on me in the first place....I would be perfectly healthy right now. No drugs, no cuts, no alcohol...well, maybe a little alcohol but only for writing purposes. Tiffany's great and all...but no one could take the place of my precious Amy.

"Why are you doing this to yourself, Mort?" she asked seriously.

I looked around the room, then back to her eyes. "I loved you...."

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A/N: RAWR it's raining WOOHOO! Okay...our poor Mort is seeking solace in even more horrible things...anyway, please REVIEW! I LOVE YE! ---Razz


	8. I Love You

**The Deepest Depths Of High**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Summary: Morts divorce left him feeling so empty and useless. Instead of moving on hes moving on to different things. He starts out with drugs which turns into an addiction but then a new girl enters his life. But can anyone save him now? R for language sexuality and extreme drug & alcohol use.

A/N: Wow eight chapters...I've never gotten this far into a fanfic before lol. Ok well...please please please please review....I think Dawnie-7 and DeppGirl are the only reviewers I'll get...lol but that's okay. I love you all anyway. Haha ok here we go. ---razz

**Chapter Eight:**

After much persuading with Amy, I had finally convinced her to just let me be. It took a fucking long time, but I finally got her to go. I'm not sure where she went after she left, but at least I was alone now. At least I now had some time to think....

I layed down on the couch again, returning to my usual thinking spot....I hated thinking....because whenever I start thinking and I'm all alone, guess who comes back?

_Stop drowning yourself in even more self-pity, Mr. Rainey. No one cares that much about you._

This time I had the courage this time to just ignore him. He didn't exist....Just a figment of my imagination...just like I was to everybody else...a figment of their minds....

_See what I mean?_

"No, I don't. You need to shut up, Shooter, before I hunt you down and slit a knife at your throat."

_Wouldn't be surprised if you did, Mr. Rainey. You seem to have all of a sudden taken a liking to blood._

"Especially when it's yours."

_Mine is yours. We share everything._

"No, we don't! Everything I have is mine! MINE! YOU DON'T EXIST, SO YOU GET NOTHING!"

He didn't respond. I wondered if I had sent him away....That would be a fucking miracle. If he was gone, there would be only one person left in my life who actually was putting an impact on it....Tiffany. Not that Shooter was putting a good impact on my life like Tiffany, but it was still an impact, whatever the hell that word means nowadays.

I found myself back in the bathroom. I was going to see how long it would take for me to stare in the mirror without wanting to do anything....This was my test of addiction....I continued staring at my reflection, not understanding what I saw. I don't remember this person....He used to look so much different....All I saw now were big bloodshot eyes and ghost-white skin. The same question kept playing through my mind as I stared at my reflection, which wasn't staring back. What is happening to me?

I slammed my fist into the mirror.

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Tiffany came over again. Yay.

She knocked once and then let herself in. I was sitting there asleep on the couch, but I woke up a couple minutes before she came. Man, I was so happy to see her....

She sat down next to me on the couch and the first thing she did was give me a hug. I soaked in her warmth and it was only after she pulled away I realized she had been crying. I looked at her and touched her soft face. "What's wrong, Tiffany?"

She leaned onto my chest and I wrapped my arms around her. She was breathing rather quickly. I stroked her hair and kissed her neck softly, trying to calm her down. She was staring down at my mended wrist. I suddenly knew what this was all about....

"Amy told me," Tiffany said, slowly regaining the steadiness in her voice. "I'm sorry, Mort. I'm sorry I ever made you do this. I-"

"No. No, Tiff-" I pushed her off of me gently and held her in front of me, looking straight in her eyes. "None of this was your fault. None of it. You're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me, Tiffany. If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't even be here. You saved me."

"Then who's fault is it?"

I thought. Yes...It was Shooter's. But I couldn't possibly explain that to Tiffany right now. It would break her down even more. "I don't know, sweetie..." I kissed her forehead. "I just don't want you to cry anymore, okay? Come here, baby..." I held her in my arms and looked down at her and smiled.

I realized I was extremely tired even though I had just been sleeping. I layed down on the couch, once again staring up at the ceiling. Tiffany then layed on top of me and stared through my glasses into my eyes. I decided to take them off because they were getting foggy anyway from my tired eyes. She kissed me, causing my hands to roam all around her body. I moved on to her neck and the upper area of her chest, which was exposed by the low neckline of her shirt. I let go though the moment I heard her say something.

"Mort...I love you...."

I looked up at her and stared in her hypnotizing eyes. "I love you, too." I kissed her passionately and just couldn't help myself. My hand wandered up the back of her shirt and unhooked her bra. She held on to me in a way of saying to continue. Again, I threw a blanket over the two of us, and we spent the rest of the night falling in love.

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A/N: Eh I would write more, but I'm not good at sex scenes...lol! Sorry this chapter took a while. And it's short too. I'm sorry. Check out my new fic, okay? It's called Mom's Dead, Johnny. Yup. It's weird. But so am I. Gwen Stefani rocks. And I DID give this chapter a title on purpose. This will be the only chapter with a title. Just another odd antedote of the Jamie files :D ---JAMIE


	9. Chapter Nine

**The Deepest Depths Of High**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except well...actually...nothing.

Summary: Morts divorce left him feeling so empty and useless. Instead of moving on hes moving on to different things. He starts out with drugs which turns into an addiction but then a new girl enters his life. But can anyone save him now? R for language sexuality and extreme drug & alcohol use.

A/N: Holy twizzlers nine chapters!! ---Rae

**Chapter Nine:**

I had no idea what time it was. I laid there on the couch with Tiffany laying on top of me. We were both motionless, staring into each other's eyes. I couldn't even begin to think back to the last time me and Amy had done anything remotely like this....with actually being in love. Like me and Tiffany. Not like Amy. Amy doesn't know how to love. Amy can't love.

I hope she understands now what she did to me. Technically we're still married...So I just did to her what she did to me. But no...It wasn't the same. Amy was never in love with Ted. She probably still isn't. But I am in love with Tiffany. Truly, deeply, madly in love.

Tiffany kissed me, and I held her closer, feeling as if she could disappear any second. Suddenly I felt like I knew everything about love...every detail...every little thing about all of it. Maybe I could be a romance novelist...Tiffany could replace Amy as the one that sits on my lap in one of my huge t-shirts while I'm writing and reads it, making comments on everything. But of course, Amy made me write about horror. That was her fault. Maybe that's why my books never sold very well. Amy contributed in the makings.

As our lips broke apart and I could see Tiffany's beautiful green eyes again. Something in them made me wonder why I would have _ever_ resorted to drugs or any of that shit. I'll never go back to it. Never. I don't have any reason to now. I have the beautiful, amazing, inspiring sublimity of Tiffany now. And she'll never leave. Right...?

Right. Don't second-guess yourself, Mort. She's perfect.

What if she leaves...?

She won't leave. She loves you.

...Okay.

"Mort?" Tiffany looked up at me, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I swallowed heavily. "I'm fine."

She rested her head on my chest. "I can hear your heart...It's beating really fast. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yep. You just wore me out, babe." I kissed her forehead and grinned.

She laughed and closed her eyes.

I wondered how long it had been since I'd felt this happy and grateful....Well, it had been a long time. I needed Tiffany more than anything. Especially now.

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Great. I gotta go on a fucking business trip.

Tiffany left a couple hours ago. And now my agent called and said there's a very important meeting I need to attend in Denver. Why Denver? Denver is in Colorado. Denver is so far away from Tiffany.

And I have to leave tomorrow and I won't be back for three weeks. Man I hate this.

As I was packing my stuff, the phone rang again. It was Amy.

"Hi, Mort."

"Hi, Amy."

"What are you doing?"

"Well, Amy, I'm packing my stuff."

Amy sounded suddenly worried. "What? Why?"

"Because I have to go on a stupid business trip, that's why."

"Oh. Sorry. Well...I just wanted to call and see if everything was, well...okay."

"Everything's fine."

"Are you mad?"

"A little!"

"Why?"

"Cuz I don't wanna go to Denver for three weeks, Amy. It's pointless. Just like these phone conversations we have every other day."

"Jeez. Sorry." She hung up.

God! Why did she make me feel so guilty all the time? Oh well. I don't care if she lays that kind of guilt on me. I can handle it. I don't need her anymore, anyway. I'm restarting my life. Right after I get back from Denver.

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"So what's this meeting about anyway, Karsch?"

"Well...We've got some pretty bad news for ya, Mort."

"What?"

"They haven't made any final decisions yet though. From my understanding, it's all about the impression you give those publication jackasses today."

We were walking down the hall of the big building of my publication company in our business suits, preparing to meet the publication managers. I'd been in Denver for a week, trying to figure out what to say to the managers, but I still had no idea. I prayed they weren't going to drop me just because of one lousy year. I mean...I'm going through a divorce. Do business people have absolutely no sympathy?

We reached the door of the meeting room, but Karsch stopped me before letting me open it. "Hey. Don't mention anything about the drugs or whatever unless they bring it up, okay?"

"How did you-"

"Come on, Rainey. Everybody knows. The whole state of New York knows. Just don't bring it up. This is a top priority company...I doubt they'll think of a stoner as acceptable-"

"Hey," I said warningly. "It's all over know, okay?"

"Okay."

I stepped inside, feeling slightly nervous. Oh, how I didn't want to be here....

"Good morning, gentlemen," the well-known manager of the company, Howard Sten, said, sitting at the end of the long table. Karsch and I sat across from each other, occasionally casting glances at each other. "So, Mr. Rainey...How is your next story coming along?" he said cheerfully.

"Well...I, uh-"

Karsch interrupted. "We've got it all planned out, sir. Rainey just has yet to get it all down in the computer."

"Really now?" Sten said, sounding suspiciously impressed. "What have you got planned out?" he asked, turning to me.

I quickly thought up a plot. Oh man...I used to be so good at this. "Well...it's about this guy...who moves to Canada...and he's a farmer. But suddenly...he realizes all of his crops won't grow....And uhm...he discovers that there was a curse placed on the cropfield many years ago."

"Why?"

"That would be giving away the ending."

"Well I need to know the ending."

"Oh. Well...He finds out that his plantation is haunted...and...he flees to Mexico...discovering a curse is placed upon his crops in Mexico as well...So then he realizes the curse was never placed on his crops...but on him."

Sten stared at me blankly. "To be honesty, Rainey...If we published that, it would be the worst thing you've ever written. All your respect as an author will be erased. Do you want that?"

"No, sir."

"Then I need a fresh manuscript by June 30th."

"Sir, that's only...21 days."

"Your point?"

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair quickly. "Fine. I'll send it to you by the 30th." Karsch and I got up and left the room. Man, was I angry.

"Three weeks! I have three fucking weeks to write a whole story! I have two more weeks left here, then it's back home to write a fucking story! Where the hell am I supposed to find the inspiration to write a whole fucking story in a week?"

"Calm down, kid. You sound like a teenage boy with all that cussing you use."

"Sorry. Man, what am I going to do?"

"Well...You better get thinking."

Later that night in the hotel room, I called Tiffany and explained to her my problem with the story.

"Do you think you could help me, Tiffany?"

"Well...I'm not much of a writer."

"Neither am I. But you gotta help me when I get back okay?"

"I'll try but-"

"Thanks, babe. You've helped me with everything else so far; I'm sure you'll do fantastic with this."

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A/N: Yay! Another chapter! It's a decent length too lol. Well...I'll write more later. ---Rae


	10. Chapter Ten

**The Deepest Depths Of High**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except well...actually...nothing.

Summary: Morts divorce left him feeling so empty and useless. Instead of moving on hes moving on to different things. He starts out with drugs which turns into an addiction but then a new girl enters his life. But can anyone save him now? R for language sexuality and extreme drug & alcohol use.

A/N: Hi everybody! I just wanna say THANK YOU so much for your reviews, Dawnie-7 and ADeppGirl. I honestly don't mind you two being my only readers because you're great reviewers!! Thanks so much! Here's chapter 10! Wow 10 chapters...Maybe when I'm done with this fic, I'll write a sequel and publicize it better...Then everyone will be forced to read this one first! :D ---Rae

**Chapter Ten:**

And it was back on the plane for me.

I was sitting there by the window, reading the Frank Gerald book Tiffany gave me. I put it down for a second to look at my watch. I should be home by 7:00...one more hour. I started to think if I should start writing up some story when I get home....I would...but what the hell am I going to write about? My talent of making up plots has obviously vanished....I needed something really...really...I don't know. I don't really care what it is. I just need something.

I looked down at the book in my hands. _This_ was good writing....If I could just..._borrow_ a few little details from it....

_No! You bastard! No plagarizing in the security-surrounded aircraft!_

Shooter's back.

"Oh shut up," I muttered to myself. "No one will notice...."

_Nobody is going to notice that you copied your story from one of the best-selling novels in the country?_

"Nope."

_Careful, Mr. Rainey._

"Shut up, Shooter!"

I could feel my voice rising and eyes averting toward me....I tried to calm myself. Only 49 more minutes, Mort, then you'll be able to see your wonderful Tiffany again. She'll help you. She'll help you with your story. Just put the book down.

Obeying myself, I put the book down on the empty seat next to me. It was like the book was setting off a force for me to grab it then start paraphrasing it all on the receipt from Smith's in my pocket. But I couldn't. I wasn't going to copy these words....

Forty-four more minutes.

I rested my head against the back of the seat and closed my eyes. I wanted to see Tiffany so bad. I was missing her like crazy. Man, I'm so in love....

It was only a few more seconds and I was fast asleep.

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I called Tiffany the second I stepped off the plane. Like usual, the connection was fucked up, but she told me to meet her at the Boulevard Casino. I found my car in the parking lot and drove over to the casino almost mechanically. I missed her so much...I needed to see her again.

From what I could tell through the crappy connection on my cell phone, she'd been at the casino beacuse my backup agent had called my house, but Tiffany answered. He said she needed to meet him at the casino. I was going to ask why...I was also going to ask why she was in my house...But I really do need a new antenna or something.

I finally got to the casino and hurried in, looking around everywhere for a pair of green eyes....I had no idea where to find her...But then as my eyes were scanning around the slot area, I spotted a beautiful brown-haired girl and couldn't help but smile. I walked up behind her as she was standing next to and talking to someone at the slots. I couldn't help but wrap my arms around her waist from behind, causing her to jump slightly. She spun around, looked in my eyes and shrieked. I pulled her closer and kissed her. It felt so good to hold her again. But her kiss felt different after not tasting it in so long....It was so simple but gave me more chills than ever before.

We broke apart, looking back in eachother's eyes, our foreheads touching. "I missed you so much," she breathed, not being able to stop smiling.

Neither could I. "I missed you too."

"Three weeks is a long time, you know that?"

"I found that out."

I could feel several pairs of eyes on us, but I didn't care. I was so happy to see her again. Our lips met again for a few seconds, letting us keep realizing how in love with eachother we are. We let go and looked into eachother's eyes again. "So..." I said. "Are you going to help me with my story?"

She looked slightly uneasy. "Well...I told you I'm not much of a writer..."

"And I told you I'm not either."

She smiled. "Okay. I'll come over tomorrow."

"Thank you, baby. I have no idea what I'm going to write about."

"I'm sure you've been working on something...."

"No. No, I haven't."

She shook her head playfully. "You bad boy....We'll have to get to work then."

Suddenly I had quite an ingenious idea.... "Hey, baby...Maybe you could be my...stenographer?"

Her face fell. "Stenographer?"

"Yeah! We'd get it all done a billion times faster! Please?"

"Well..."

Weapon number 32. The pout.

She laughed. "Fine! Whatever..."

"Thank you!" I gave her a quick hug, a quick kiss, and dashed out of the casino, heading home to prepare my story. And I wasn't going to use any kind of utensils or crutches or whatever you want to call them this time. I'm only using my mind....This mind under so many signs of construction, yet still functioning. I'm glad everything is falling back into place....Amy is out of my life completely...I finally have a chance to start over. Completely.

So I sat down at my computer and started to think.

And think.

And think some more.

I finally got it.

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A/N: Aw I'm such a loser...giving you two wonderful readers such a short chapter :( well I love you! ---Jamie


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